Brett And Chett Acquire An RV
by Perennial5
Summary: Brett and Chett go on a perilous adventure, full of danger and mystery, to safely bring home their newly acquired RV. Oneshot.


**Brett And Chett Acquire An RV**

Chett swung his machete as hard as he could, trying to slash through some particularly thick vines and tree branches. Both he and Brett had been kicked out of the house and sent out to find something to occupy themselves with after they'd accidentally knocked over an entire bag of flower while roughhousing in the kitchen.

"You think we'll find something?" Brett asked, following close behind as Chett cut a path through the woods.

"We better, else this'll get real boring real fast," Chett replied.

Suddenly, Chett stopped. "Look there! There's a clearing over there!" he said, pointing ahead.

"Sure is."

Chett continued to hack away until the only thing standing between them and the clearing was a few vines and a branch. Chett moved the branch out of the way, but forgot to hold it for his brother. The branch went flying back and smacked Brett directly in the chest, hard enough to knock him back on his behind.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said, as Brett glared up at him. He helped his brother up, made sure to hold the branch this time, and then both made their way into the clearing.

It was one of those picture perfect sorts of clearings, where the sunlight filtered in all perfectly like. Daisies and tall grass waved slowly in a gentle breeze, and butterflies were flitting from flower to flower.

It's a too bad that the picturesque clearing was marred by a large, brand new RV parked directly in the middle of it.

"Why the hell's that there?" Chett asked.

Brett elbowed him. "Ma's gonna smack you upside the head again if she hears you talking like that."

"Ma ain't here. Should we knock or something?"

Brett shrugged, more or less agreeing that they should. They both approached the RV, increasingly curious as to why a brand new RV was parked directly in a woods surrounded clearing.

Just as they got within about a yard of the RV, a man burst out of one of the side doors. He was old, with white hair that stuck out all over the place, like he'd been electrocuted. His clothes were raggedy and appeared rather dirty.

He stopped just as he got out the doorway of the RV. He glanced around, snapping his head back and forth. Suddenly, he pointed at the two of them, and rushed up to them faster than an old man ought to.

"Are y'all clones!?" He exclaimed. He jabbed a finger at them.

"What's a clone?" Chett asked, truly befuddled by the strange old man.

Brett shrugged.

"You see that?! That there RV?!" the man said, now jabbing a finger at the RV.

They both nodded in response.

"I don't want that damn thing no more. Y'all can have it." The man gave them one last glance, before shoving past the both of them and running wildly off into the woods, arms wheeling around their sockets like pinwheels.

They both looked at each other, considerably confused. Then, they both looked towards the door left open by the wild old man. It gaped open, as if demanding they enter.

"Well, guess it's ours now. Let's go inside," Chett said.

Brett nodded, and they both headed into the RV.

Right as they got inside far enough, the door slammed loudly on its own. The temperature suddenly dropped to where it felt practically freezing in the RV. A few books on the kitchen counters fell down on their own.

And then, the most frightening thing happened. Both brothers watched as some spooky, invisible specter wrote, in blood, a sentence upon the far wall.

'YOU HAVE ENTERED MY DOMAIN. THIS RV IS CURSED, AND SUPER HAUNTED.'

Chett screamed. "THERE'S A GHOST WRITING ON THAT WALL."

Brett then exclaimed, "And that font is atrocious!"

The ghost began to write again.

'THIS FONT IS COMIC SANS.'

"NO!" they both screamed.

Then, for a bit, nothing really happened. The scare factor of having a ghost writing a letter in blood in the font of comic sans was quickly lost.

"That old man gave us a haunted RV and it ain't even that scary," Chett grumbled. "You got that anti-haunting rock or whatever it's called?" he asked Brett.

Brett pulled out a near black rock out of his pocket. "It's obsidian."

Suddenly, a super spooky and super haunted voice rang out through the RV. "NOOOOOOOOooooOOooooOOoooO…. not an anti-haunting rock!"

"See? It's an anti-haunting rock," Chett said as he crossed his arms.

Brett rolled his eyes, and threw the rock directly into the middle of the trailer. The ghost hollered and screeched, so loudly the windows rattled. The scream grew quieter and quieter until the ghost was completely gone from the RV.

"That takes care of that," Chett said, feeling awful proud of himself. He dusted non-existent dust off his hands. "How'd you know to bring that thing anyways?" he asked, as Brett picked up the thrown rock.

He shrugged. "Great grandma said I should always carry it."

"Smart."

They both approached the driver section of the RV. There was a small door leading to the front and driver's seat. They opened it and got into the cabin.

"This here's like a cockpit," Chett said, while glancing around.

Brett checked around for a key, and found none. "That old man didn't leave us a key."

Chett stomped a foot down and began to think. "Can you hotwire this thing?"

"Hmm. I think so." Brett then went to work, pulling out a panel underneath the steering column and looking for the right wires to push together. "Can you put the gear in neutral?"

"Yep," Chett said as he shoved the stick into the neutral position. He then sat in the passenger seat waiting for Brett to finish up hotwiring the RV.

The RV started shortly after. Brett popped his head up from underneath the steering column and hopped into the driver's seat. "We're ready for takeoff."

"RVs don't fly," Chett said, a little smartly.

"Shut up."

Chett glanced around the clearing, looking for a way to drive the RV. "Hey look, there's a big ol' clearing right next to the path we cut!" he said, pointing.

"You mean we coulda just walked up that big path?" Brett said, placing his hand on his forehead.

"Look, it was an accident. Besides, cutting through the woods is fun," he said, crossing his arms. "Can I drive?"

"You cain't drive, you ain't got a license."

Chett waved his arms through the air. "So you're so special with your fancy license. We ain't on a main road, it don't matter."

"Do you even know how to drive?"

"A'course I do. I saw it in the pictures."

Brett thought for a minute. Surely it wouldn't be that big of a deal, right? "Alright, but you'd better just put my license in your pocket, case we get pulled over," he said, tossing his license over.

They quickly switched seats. Chett jammed the license into one of his overall pockets.

"I just release this here parking brake, right?" Chett asked.

Brett nodded. "Then you put your foot on the clutch and put it in first gear."

"Pffft, I know," he said, following his brother's instructions. They rolled forward a bit as he put the RV into first gear. "See? Everything's going perfect."

They began to drive through the clearing and entered the cleared out path directly ahead of them. Chett switched it into second gear.

"You'd better not put it higher than third," Brett warned.

"We'll be fine," Chett said, waving a hand.

"Both hands at 9 n' 3!" Brett said, horrified, slapping his brother's hand back onto the wheel. He was starting to regret allowing Chett to drive.

"I thought 10 n' 2 was better!" Chett argued, putting the RV into third gear.

Brett huffed. "Now you're just trying to argue."

"No I ain't," Chett replied, now moving to fourth gear.

"Slow down and put that thing back in third."

"We'll be fine!" Chett exclaimed as they began to go down a hill.

Brett jabbed him in the side with his elbow.

"Alright fine! I'll slow down!" Chett grumbled. He put his foot on the brake. The pedal went all the way down to the floor with no resistance. They did not slow down. "The middle pedal makes it slow right?"

They both stared at each other in silence for a very, very brief moment. They broke out into a sudden frenzy trying to throw their seatbelts on.

"The damn brake ain't working!" Chett exclaimed. They were beginning to hurtle down the hill at a very illegal, and a very unsafe, speed. He continued to stomp on the brake pedal, as if that'd make it work.

Brett half ripped open the glove box in front of him and pulled out the manual to the RV. He quickly flipped through it. Then, with a sense of finality, he slammed the book shut and tossed it on the floor of the RV. He turned over to Chett, and with a voice grave as death, said, "This thing ain't got air bags."

"WE'RE GONNA DIE," Chett screamed as he began to flail his arms around.

"WE'RE GONNA CRASH INTO THAT HOUSE!" Brett screamed in response.

Brett had a decision to make. He could either drive right through some poor fellow's house, or he could crash into the massive oak tree that was a little to the side of the house. He grabbed the wheel, and turned towards the tree.

Chett suddenly remembered they had an emergency brake. He quickly slammed his foot down on it, desperately watching the speedometer. The needle began to inch down.

A few seconds passed. "Look at that!" Chett yelled, triumphant that he'd thought quick enough.

They then slammed into the tree.

The entire front of the car crumpled, and they came to a stop right before the tree went through the windshield. They also came to a stop right before flying through the windshield thanks to the seatbelts.

They both blinked, dazedly staring at the bark of the tree they had crashed into.

"That's about two inches from the windshield," Chett said. "I don't feel too good."

Brett somehow managed to find the manual he'd previously tossed onto the ground. He flipped to the safety features section. "This here says that the engine block drops straight outta the RV in case of a crash. Y'know, instead of tearing through the driver's section." He let the book fall from his hands.

Chett threw off his seatbelt and kicked the driver's side door out just as the door to the house they'd crashed beside flew open. Chett looked up to see their uncle Ubb staring at them from his porch. He then rushed down the stairs over to the crashed RV.

They both hopped out of the RV. Chett, still feeling a little sick, sat down and tried to get the world to stop spinning. Brett prepared to explain why they had crashed an RV into their uncle's favorite, and oldest, oak tree.

Ubb stood in front of the pair, looking between them. "Did y'all bump your heads or anything? Anything hurt?"

"No," Chett said.

Brett shook his head.

Ubb then made an expression of pure frustrated confusion. He flung his arms into the air, before bringing them down and sighing. He began walking to his house and gestured for them to follow.

They followed, wondering what was going to happen. Once they got into the house, Ubb had them sit at the kitchen table as he went to make a telephone call in his living room.

Brett listened carefully. His eyes widened. "He's on the horn with ma," he whispered to Chett.

"What's he saying?" he whispered back.

Brett tried to listen for a second. "I cain't make out any more."

Ubb hung up and went into the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen table with the two of them. "Henrietta's coming to get y'all. She's gonna have a doctor come 'round and make sure y'all didn't hurt your fool heads."

"Are you mad at us?" Chett asked, almost shaking.

"Well, y'all smacked an RV into my oak tree. But I ain't mad enough to tell your ma what actually happened," he replied, drumming his fingers on the kitchen table.

"What did you tell her?" Brett asked.

"Ain't important."

"I'm real sorry, uncle Ubb. I'll come wash your windows for a month!" Chett said. "Brett too."

Brett looked a little irritated to be included in the month long window washing, but didn't say anything.

Ubb sighed. "Alright, look. I ain't got no clue where the hell y'all got an RV, or how y'all managed to crash it into my tree. I think almost dying is enough punishment to learn your lesson for… whatever it is you need to learn it for."

"You think your tree's alright?" Brett asked.

"It didn't fall over or nothing, it's probably fine," Ubb replied. "It ain't important, I'm just glad y'all didn't kill yourselves."

They both sighed in relief. It didn't seem like they were going to get into too much trouble.

[][][]

After getting checked out by a doctor, and after receiving a lecture on letting their constantly drunk neighbor Cowboy drive them anywhere (which is apparently what uncle Ubb said had happened), their ma let them off the hook without too much more griping.

No one asked any questions about where the RV came from. Not like they could afford to get one legitimately. Their ma had it taken into the shop to get repaired for cheap, because the main mechanic apparently owed her a favor.

And so, they now had an RV.


End file.
